


It's Just Not Your Battle

by Black_Rose_117



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Rose_117/pseuds/Black_Rose_117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thoughts of suiside sounds like a wonderful ending to the internally-dead Dr. John Watson, after his best friend, the famous Sherlock Holmes, killed himself two and a half years earlier. As the conversation boils to an end between John and Greg, John decided to finish it then and there, pulling the gun and aiming at his temple. How can DI Greg Lestrade save this poor hurting man, if he can at all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Just Not Your Battle

**Author's Note:**

> Still don't own them :p

John sat in his arm chair, not making eye contact with the DI that sat across from him. He sat in Sher- -his- old chair. Why did he have to sit in -his- old chair?! 

"John?" Lestrade asked slowly, pulling John from his ever painful thoughts that seemed to be twisting in his head. 

John looked up to meet Lestrade's eyes at last. He didn't say anything, just rose an eyebrow to let him know he was listening. 

"John, you can't stay up here forever... I know it hurts, losing your best friend and all, but-"

"He wasn't just my best friend..." John cut in, lowering his gaze once again to the carpet. "He was so much more than that. He was my life, what gave my life actual meaning. He pulled me from the depths of darkness no one could even reach me in. That man was everything..." 

John sat there in silence for a moment and Lestrade felt like he was going to continue. His heart skipped a beat then dropped as John removed the pistol from his jacket pocket and raised it to his temple.

"He was my life, Greg..." John said, clicking off the safety and bothering his bottom lip. "He was what gave my life actual purpose. And now, he's gone... I have nothing to live for now..." John began to pull the trigger  and Lestrade panicked.

"He's alive!" He shouted, getting out of the chair. His legs failed him and he fell to his knees. "John, Sherlock's alive!"

John paused and lowered the gun, staring at Lestrade in disbelief. "N-no... No he can't be... He's not, you're lying!" John was shouting. He raised the gun back up to his temple. "How dare you make up such a horrible lie! Do you know how much that hurts?!" 

"John, please! I-I-I... I can prove it!" Lestrade begged desperately. "Just lower the gun... I can prove it!" 

John slowly lowered the gun, tears glistening on his cheeks. Lestrade slowly pulled out his cell phone and dialed Sherlock's number, putting it on speaker as it rang.

"Hello?" Came the baritone voice on the other end. 

"Sherlock?" Lestrade asked in a shaky voice, looking up at John.

There was a sigh on the other end. "Lestrade, really, what is it? I am very busy hunting down these snipers as you know and-"

"Sher-Sherlock?" John piped up from his chair. He fell to his knees in front of Lestrade, staring at the cell phone as if it were magic. "Sher-Sherlock, is that y-you?" 

"John?" Sherlock's voice was small. Fearful, even. 

"W-what the bloody hell?! You're supposed to be... -dead-!" John felt anger, sadness... Relief flood through him. 

"Lestrade, he's not supposed to know yet..." Sherlock said slowly, sounding sad and worried. 

"I had to, Sherlock... He was going to... Shoot... Himself..." Lestrade looked down, even though Sherlock wasn't there. He knew this was putting John in danger, he knew John would understand and go into hiding. 

"You were? John!" Sherlock said angrily, almost making his burning red face audible. 

"I thought you were dead, Sherlock. I wanted to be with you..." John tried to explain, his heart resolving to pounding painfully on his ribs. "I never told you... But I-"

"Lestrade, you have to get him out of there, now," Sherlock said, cutting John off.

"Sherlock, you're not listening to me... I lo-"

"Quickly, Lestrade," Sherlock cut in again. "He's going to be in danger now. You have to ge-"

"LISTEN TO ME, SHERLOCK!" John yelled, his heart becoming uncomfortably painful. There was silence on the other side of the phone. "Sherlock, I love you..." 

"Is that all?" Sherlock asked calmly. 

"Well... Y-yes... But..." John felt his heart plummet. He felt like he was going to be sick. He felt his eyes beginning to water. 

"Fine then, Lestrade, bring him here. We need to find a place to hide him," Sherlock said, urgency in his voice. 

"We'll be there in about twenty minutes," Lestrade nodded, hanging up the phone then.

"But... I... Love you..." John said again, tears hitting his cheeks. He wasn't talking to anyone now, just the floor. 

"John, come on, we have to go," Lestrade said gently, a hand placed on John's shoulder. 

"Where?"

"To Sherlock."

"No," John said, more tears gathering in his eyes. "I can't face him now... I can't..." 

"Why not? You're in danger now, you have to come." 

"I just told him I love him... And he didn't give a damn..."

"You act surprised. It is Sherlock, after all," Lestrade chuckled and forced John to his feet. 

"It's too... Embarrassing... All this time, waiting for him... Two and a half years, Lestrade, I waited and believed and hoped against hope. I thought if he was alive, he would love me back," John shook his head and regathered the gun in his hand. "He wont even look at me, now," John raised the gun to his head. "He'll leave me, this all would have been for nothing..." 

"John, stop!" Lestrade yelled, fear freezing him to the spot. 

John began to pull the trigger as Lestrade phone started ringing. "It's Sherlock!" Lestrade said, recognizing the ring tone. 

John paused as Lestrade pulled the phone out and flipped it onto speaker. 

"John... Stop... Please. Lower the gun and listen to me," Sherlock's voice came. John lowered the gun and waited. "I'm sorry," Sherlock said, his voice shaky. "That I didn't say it back... I love you, too, John Watson... Believe me..."

John froze, the gun firing at his side into the floor. 

"John?!" Sherlock's voice sounded scared. "John?!" 

"He's fine, Sherlock. Shot the floor," Lestrade said into the phone. 

A sigh of relief sounded from the phone and Sherlock went on, "Please, John, come down to my place. Let Lestrade bring you to me. I need you safe."

John could only nod and Lestrade spoke into the phone with Sherlock a little more before hanging up. John followed Lestrade slowly to the car, emotions confusing him. 

\----------

John got out of the car and went to the door Lestrade noted him to. Lestrade had to leave almost at once, an emergency call drawing him to a scene across town, so John was there to face Sherlock alone.

He knocked, and almost at once the door swung open. John was yanked inside and arms were around his tightly as he heard the door slam behind him.

"John..." Sherlock almost purred, holding his blogger in a tight embrace. 

"Sh-Sherlock... I can't believe you did that to me." 

"I know... I'm sorry... I'll make it up to you when it's all over with, but for now, you will be staying in the basement of this place," Sherlock said, looking John in the eye. He paused and his face relaxed, looking into the deep eyes of John Watson. "I missed you..." he whispered, still staring into John's eyes.

"I missed you too, Sherlock..." John whispered back, leaning up slightly.

He caught Sherlock's lips with his and kissed him deeply. Pulling the detective closer, John pressed his full body against the man. Sherlock moaned at the contact. He was messy, never kissing anyone before. 

Sherlock pulled back, but before he could say anything, John looked him in the eye and said, "I'm not staying in some stupid basement while you risk your life. I'm coming with you. This isn't just your battle anymore, time to share." 

John kissed Sherlock again, and it was all Sherlock to do but to agree a hundred times how right John was.


End file.
